


bugs and bruises

by carefulren



Category: Love Simon (2018), Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda - Becky Albertalli
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Freshman Year, Hurt/Comfort, Illnesses, Injury, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Sick Character, Sickfic, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-05-01 21:39:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14529741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carefulren/pseuds/carefulren
Summary: the one where bram gets hit in the face with a soccer ball during practice, and simon can't understand how until he touches bram's too warm cheek





	bugs and bruises

Simon’s flipping through Netflix when he hears the soft click of the dorm door. He keeps his eyes glued to screen, skimming a summary of some obscure Daniel Radcliffe movie, but offers a stretched out “hey,” to his boyfriend– one that sounded a lot smoother in his head.

“Hey,” Bram mutters, and Simon knows Bram’s voice well enough now– he knows his vocal mannerisms, and this ‘hey’ wasn’t Bram’s usual colored ‘hey.’ 

Simon flicks his eyes from the screen, and the remote slips from suddenly weak fingers, falling to the plush carpet at his feet.

Bram’s nose is specked with dried blood, and a dark purple bruise covers half of it and extends across his cheek and up to his right eye. It’s swollen in places, and based on Bram’s deep frown, it hurts.

“Oh,” Simon manages out, voice cracking slightly and mirroring the definition of muted shock. “Okay, wow. Okay.” He gets to his feet, crossing the small dorm toward Bram just as Bram drops his gym bag to the floor. 

“What happened?” Simon questions, words flying off his tongue as he guides Bram over to the couch.

“Didn’t see a soccer ball coming, and it hit me in the face.” 

Simon drops to a crouch in front of Bram, one hand resting on Bram’s knee while the other hovers over the mess that’s hiding Bram’s cute face. “You didn’t see a soccer ball flying toward your face?”

Bram shrugs, sighing deeply when Simon’s free hand falls to his non-swollen cheek. He leans into Simon’s palm, eyes fluttering closed.

“My vision went blurry for a second, and next thing I knew, I was flat on my ass.” 

Frowning, Simon smooths his thumb over Bram’s cheek, noting that the skin underneath his hand is far too warm when compared to Bram’s usually cool complexion.

“You’re hot,” he says, hand dropping to Bram’s other knee. 

“Really, Si?” Bram pries his tired eyes open with a hint of a smirk. “I can’t possibly look hot right now.” 

“No, not like that,” Simon starts as he gets to his feet. “Your skin– I think you have a fever?” His words tip up in quiet question. In high school, he was confident in a lot due to full support from his parents, but at college, he feels like a pet fish tossed to the sea. 

He leans down and smooths his hand across Bram’s forehead, mimicking an action his mom has done to him and he has done to his sister, and the heat of a fever is definitely there.

Unknown panic sets in, and he straightens up and backs away slightly. “Okay, wait here. I’ll be right back.”

“Simon–” 

Simon slips out the door, ignoring Bram as he starts down the hall until he’s rapping his knuckles on a different dorm, over and over and over until Leah pulls the door open with a sigh.

“What, Simon? You’re interrupting our show.” 

“Bram is dying.” 

Leah’s hand drops from the doorknob, eyes going wide and brows pulling together in a clear show of concern.

“What?” 

“Well, he’s not dying, but he’s got a fever, and I don’t– Leah, stop! I’m freaking out!” 

Leah’s got one hand against Simon’s shoulder and is pushing as hard as possible while she tries to close herself in her dorm room with the other hand. “Si, just give him some ibuprofen and cuddle him or whatever. He’ll be fine.”

“Leah–” Simon tries, but the door closes in his face, and he sucks in a deep breath and makes his way back to he and Bram’s dorm. He opens the door while calling out to Bram “ibuprofen and cuddles,” but Bram’s no longer on the couch. One quick sweep of the room shows Bram on his own dorm bed with a thermometer in front of his eyes. 

“I don’t think cuddling is such a good idea right now.” Bram says, holding out the thermometer for Simon. 

Simon grabs the device and takes in the 102.2 degree reading with a deep frown. “This is bad. We should just skip ibuprofen and cuddles and go to the clinic.”

“It’s fine,” Bram says as he slips his shoes off and pulls his legs up onto the bed.

“It’s not,” Simon tries, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. “How do you feel?”  

Bram shrugs. “Tired, I guess.”

“Bram.”

Simon’s voice is equal parts stern and concerned, annoyed with Bram’s inability to go in-depth on certain things, and Bram sighs. “Cold. My body hurts, and I can’t tell if that’s from soccer practice or not. My head hurts, and my nose, but that’s…” His words drop off as he motions weakly to the bruising and swelling.

“Okay,” Simon breathes out with a nod. “I’ll make an ice pack, and then we can lie here and watch vine compilation videos, and–” 

“You’ll lie there,” Bram interrupts, motioning to Simon’s own dorm bed. 

“Bram.” 

“It’s not a good idea, Simon. We both don’t need to get sick.” 

“Bram,” Simon repeats, eyes narrowed, a gaze Bram matches to the best of his abilities. 

“Simon.” 

“Simon says you share your bed.” 

Bram breaks the gaze with a roll of the eyes. “That’s not going to work right now, Si.”

Simon places one hand over Bram’s with a frown. “I’m not really sure what I’m doing here, but Leah mentioned cuddling, so–”

“That’s where you went.” 

“Well, yeah, so–” 

“Soup,” Bram interrupts a second time, and Simon cocks his head slightly to the side. 

“What?” 

“Can you make soup? Or buy some? That’s what I want– I think that will make me feel better.” 

Simon hops to his feet, already eyeing the tiny kitchen area. “I can do that– definitely! I can make soup. Nora taught me this one recipe, and she insisted I learn it by heart.” He walks over to the kitchen, glancing at their small spice rack while mentally going through a store checklist.

“Thanks, Si,” Bram calls out, voice a little rough, and Simon breaks from his thoughts just long enough to shoot Bram a wide smile. 

“Of course.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is my very first Love, Simon fic, so the characterization is whack-- I know. But, I loved the book and the movie and got a prompt, so I wanted to give this a go!


End file.
